The doves that still would at her casement peck, And, by the soldier's cloak, I know And in her walks had ever flutter'd round With purple feet and shining neck, True as the echo to the sound. That casement, underneath the trees, With dimpled cheeks and laughing eyes, St. Pierre sat by, nor saw nor smiled. His eyes were on his loved Montaigne; But every leaf was turn'd in vain. Then in that hour remorse he felt, And his heart told him he had dealt A father may awhile refuse; The ocean-wave, the mountain-wind; Or fix thy foot upon the ground The light was on his face; and there 1 Cantando "Io amo! Io amo!"-Tusso. (There, there along the ridge they go) Look up-why will you not?" he cries Who, for you told me on your knee, And true it was! And true the tale! My father-if not for his own, Nor can ye wonder. When a child, They loved-but under Friendship's name 1 Argus. 2 Called in the language of the country pas de l'Echelle The day was named, the guests invited; III. That morn ('t was in Ste Julienne's cell, That morn, ere many a star was set, -And now the village gleams at last; So saying, through the fragrant shade While Manchon round and round her play'd (When Lubin calls, and Blanche steals round, Her finger on her lip, to see; And many an acorn-cup is found Under the greenwood tree) From every cot above, below, They gather as they go Sabot, and coif, and collerette, The housewife's prayer, the grandam's blessing! The lovely bride caressing; Babes that had learnt to lisp her name, But what felt D'Arcy, when at length Her father's gate was open flung? Ah, then he found a giant's strength; For round him, as for life, she clung! And when, her fit of weeping o'er, Onward they moved a little space, And saw an old man situng at the door, Saw his wan cheek, and sunken eye That seem'd to gaze on vacancy, Then, at the sight of that beloved face, At once to fall upon his neck she flew; But not encouraged-back she drew, And trembling stood in dread suspense, Her tears her only eloquence! All, all-the while-an awful distance keeping⚫ Then Jacqueline the silence broke. While D'Arcy as before look'd on, "His praises from your lips I heard, She, whom in joy, in grief you nursed; Two kneeling at your feet behold; Her bridal be her dying day. Well, well might she believe in you!— He shook his aged locks of snow; When she implored, and old Le Roc consented Yet once I loved him as my own! -Nor can'st thou, D'Arcy, feel resentment long; All things by all forgot, forgiven. And that dear Saint-may she once more descend But now, in my hands, your's with her's unite. Had Louis' then before the gate dismounted, Like Henry, when he heard recounted To love and to be loved again. 1 Louis the Fourteenth. 2 Alluding to a popular story related of Henry the Fourth of France; similar to ours of "The King and Miller of Mansfield." The Toyage of Columbus. PREFACE. THE following Poem (or to speak more properly, what remains of it') has here and there a lyrical turn of thought and expression. It is sudden in its transitions, and full of historical allusions; leaving] much to be imagined by the reader. The subject is a voyage the most memorable in the annals of mankind. Columbus was a person of extraordinary virtue and piety, acting under the sense of a divine impulse; and his achievement the discovery of a New World, the inhabitants of which were shut out from the light of Revelation, and given up, as they believed, to the dominion of malignant spirits. Many of the incidents will now be thought extrav agant; yet they were once perhaps received with something more than indulgence. It was an age of miracles; and who can say that among the venerable legends in the library of the Escurial, or the more authentic records which fill the great chamber in the Archivo of Simancas, and which relate entirely to the deep tragedy of America, there are no volumes that mention the marvellous things here described? Indeed the story, as already told throughout Europe, admits of no heightening. Such was the religious! enthusiasm of the early writers, that the Author had only to transfuse it into his verse; and he appears to have done little more; though some of the circumstances which he alludes to as well known, have long ceased to be so. By using the language of that day, he has called up Columbus "in his habit as he lived;" and the authorities, such as exist, are carefully given by the Translator. INSCRIBED ON THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT. In RABIDA's monastic fane, I cannot ask, and ask in vain. 1 The Original, in the Castilian language, according to the Inscription that follows, was found among other MSS. in an old religions house near Palos, situated on an island formed by the river Tinto, and dedicated to our Lady of Rabida. The writer describes himself as having sailed with Columbus; but his style and manner are evidently of an after-time. Shakspeare. Yet here, in consecrated dust, One hallow'd morn, methought, I felt To me one little hour devote, PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. THERE is a spirit in the old Spanish Chroniclers of the sixteenth century that may be compared to the freshness of water at the fountain-head. Their sim plicity, their sensibility to the strange and the wonderful, their very weaknesses, give an infinite value, by giving a life and a character to every thing they touch; and their religion, which bursts out everywhere, addresses itself to the imagination in the highest degree. If they err, their errors are not their own. They think and feel after the fashion of the time; and their narratives are so many moving pictures of the actions, manners, and thoughts of their contemporaries. What they had to communicate, might well make them eloquent; but, inasmuch as relates to Colum bus, the inspiration went no farther. No National Poem appeared on the subject; no Camoëns did honor to his Genius and his Virtues. Yet the materials, that have descended to us, are surely not unpoetical; and a desire to avail myself of them, to convey in some instances as far as I could, in others as far as I dared, their warmth of coloring and wildness of imagery, led me to conceive the idea of a Poem written not long after his death, when the great consequences of the Discovery were beginning 35 to unfold themselves, but while the minds of men were still clinging to the superstitions of their fathers. The Event here described may be thought too recent for the Machinery; but I found them together.' A belief in the agency of Evil Spirits prevailed over both hemispheres; and even yet seems almost necessary to enable us to clear up the Darkness, and, in this instance at least, To justify the ways of God to Men. THE ARGUMENT. Her awful face; and Nature's self reposed; When, slowly rising in the azure sky, Three white sails shone-but to no mortal eye, Entering a boundless sea. In slumber cast, Columbus, having wandered from kingdom to king- The very ship-boy, on the dizzy mast, dom, at length obtains three ships and sets sail on the Half breathed his orisons! Alone unchanged, Atlantic. The compass alters from its ancient direc- Calmly, beneath, the great Commander (2) ranged tion; the wind becomes constant and unremitting; Thoughtful, not sad; and, as the planet grew, night and day he advances, till he is suddenly stop- His noble form, wrapt in his mantle blue, ped in his course by a mass of vegetation, extending Athwart the deck a deepening shadow threw. as far as the eye can reach, and assuming the ap-Thee hath it pleased--Thy will be done!" he said, (3 pearance of a country overwhelmed by the sea. Then sought his cabin; and, their capas' spread, Alarm and despondence on board. He resigns him- Around him lay the sleeping as the dead, self to the care of Heaven, and proceeds on his When, by his lamp, to that mysterious Guide, voyage; while columns of water move along in his On whose still counsels all his hopes relied, path before him. That Oracle to man in mercy given, Whose voice is truth, whose wisdom is from heaven, (4) Who over sands and seas directs the stray, And, as with God's own finger, points the way, He turn'd; but what strange thoughts perplex'd his soul When, lo, no more attracted to the Pole The Compass, faithless as the circling vane, Flutter'd and fix'd, flutter'd and fix'd again! At length, as by some unseen hand imprest It sought with trembling energy the West!2 " Ah no," he cried, and calm'd his anxious brow, Ill, nor the signs of ill, 'tis thine to show, Thine but to lead me where I wish'd to go!" Meanwhile the deities of America assemble in council; and one of the Zemi, the gods of the islanders, announces his approach. “In vain," says he," have we guarded the Atlantic for ages. A mortal has baffled our power; nor will our votaries arm against him. Yours are a sterner race. Hence; and, while we have recourse to stratagem, do you array the nations round your altars, and prepare for an exterminating war." They disperse while he is yet speaking; and, in the shape of a condor, he directs his flight to the fleet. His journey described. He arrives there. A panic. A mutiny. Columbus restores order; continues on his voyage; and lands in a New World. Ceremonies of the first interview. Rites of hospitality. The ghost of Cazziva. Two months pass away, and an Angel, appearing in a dream to Columbus, thus addresses him; "Return to Europe; though your Adversaries, such is the will of Heaven, shall let loose the hurricane against you. A little while shall they triumph; insinuating themselves into the hearts of your followers, and making the World, which you came to bless, a scene of blood and slaughter. Yet is there cause for rejoicing. Your work is done. The cross of Christ is planted here; and, in due time, all things shall be made perfect!"" CANTO I. Night-Columbus on the Atlantic-the Variation WHO the great Secret of the Deep possess'd 1 Perhaps even a contemporary subject should not be rejected as such, however wild and extravagant it may be, if the manners be foreign and the place distant-major e longinquo reverentia. "L'éloignement des pays," says Racine, "répare en quelque sorte la trop grande proximité des temps; car le peuple no met guère de différence entre ce qui est, si j'ose ainsi parler, à mille ans de lui, et ce qui en est à mille lieues." 46 Columbus err'd not. (5) In that awful hour, CANTO II. The Voyage continued. "WHAT vast foundations in the Abyss are there, (8) 1 The capa is the Spanish cloak. When towers and temples, through the closing wave, Long from the stern the great adventurer gazed Of fearful men, when mountains round them rise And once again that valiant company And, see, the heavens bow down, the waters rise, Descends, and shuts the vision from their sight. CANTO III. An Assembly of Evil Spirits. THOUGH changed my cloth of gold for amice In my spring-time, when every month was May, 'Mid pillars of Basalt, the work of fire, Merion, commission'd with his host to sweep No voice, as erst, shall in the desert rise; (22) With scorn of death the trembling tribes inspire |